EDMUND WILSON TRASHES
MYSTERIES!I wrote FINLAND STATION. I was a genius, wrote
social and literary criticism.If I despise the genre of Mysteries, you might
consider why I do. THRILLERShowever, is another thing entirely.

About fifty years ago Edmund Wilson, the noted
critic, curmudgeon and author of BEST BOOK EVER
"FINLAND STATION" penned a regular column for The
New Yorker entitled, "Books". At the end of 1944 and
in early 1945 he wrote three columns dedicated to
detective fiction in which he unmercifully and
rather clumsily (this poster disagrees,) attacked
detective fiction and those who read it. It is not
clear how much damage he inflicted or how many timid
readers he coerced into becoming closet mystery fans
but it is time to respond and repudiate his flawed
and arrogant arguments.

His first column "Why Do People Read Detective
Stories?" (October 14, 1944) begins with a comment
that explains a great deal about his negativity
toward the genre. He states, "Almost everybody I
know seems to read them and they have long
conversations about them in which I am unable to
take part!" We can only assume that he hobnobbed
with some distinguished members of the literati but
was not keeping up with the newest trend in hot
literature. He was clearly miffed (he does actually
mention luminaries such as Jacques Barzun, Bernard
DeVoto and Somerset Maugham who were detective story
fans and defenders!). He decided therefore to take a
look at some specimens of this school of writing and
pass judgements. He then rendered very negative
assessments of Rex Stout (although he rather enjoyed
Nero Wolf's rich dinners, quiet evening and
residence on farthest West 35th Street), Agatha
Christie (I did not care for Agatha Christie and
never expect to read another one of her books!), and
Dashiel Hammett (The Maltese Falcon was not much
above newspaper picture strips)

He never
provides any explanation other than ex-cathedra
loathing for the stories in most cases. Even
more interesting is his concern for the great and
growing popularity of detective stories - he glibly
explains this by noting that the years between the
world wars filled people with guilt and fear of
impending disaster and the detective provides the
murderer and relief: it is not a person like you or
me, after all. If only Wilson had stopped
pontificating and read enough detective stories he
would have found that many of the murderers and
assorted other culprits were indeed just like us! In
all three columns, however, Wilson confesses a great
weakness for Sherlock Holmes stories and, for him,
Moriarity was a wonderful arch villain resembling no
normal person. In most crime fiction the perpetrator
is usually someone the reader never suspects would
be a villain and who is a very normal person!

The second article, "Who Cares Who Killed Roger
Ackroyd: A Second Report on Detective Fiction" (June
20, 1945) is largely a response to what he describes
as a volume of passionate mail protesting his
analysis in the initial piece. Our magnanimous
keeper of the canon thus decides to read even more
of the "stuff". He read Dorothy Sayers and claimed
that Nine Tailors was "one of the dullest books I
have ever encountered". I will grant that Sayers can
be dull and Lord Peter Wimsey, her crime solver, can
be a pain, but Nine Tailors is a superb work, filled
with believable characters and a wondrous landscape
that plays an eerie and important role in the novel.
He claims it is too long and too detailed (his own
To The Finland Station is 590 pages and truly
dull!). He becomes gravely vicious stating that
Sayers "attracts attention in a field which is
mostly on a sub-literary level". This consistently
contradictory critic then tells the readers that he
enjoyed Raymond Chandler's Farewell My Lovely! In
typical fashion, however, he concludes by claiming
the reading of detective stories is simply a kind of
vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness,
ranks somewhere between crossword puzzles and
smoking.

The third column, "Mr. Holmes, They Were the
Footprints of a Gigantic Hound" (Feb.17th. 1945)
continues the vitriol and contradictions. He claims
he had received even more letters and that most
agreed with him. The negative letters, he notes,
contained furious reactions that "confirm me in my
conclusions that detective stories are actually a
habit-forming drug for which its addicts will fight
like tigers". One can only conclude that he wrote
this column in his cups because he does confess, "in
my turn, that since first looking into this subject
last fall I have myself become addicted, by spells,
to reading myself to sleep with Sherlock Holmes".
This final contradiction is followed by a loving
recounting of the great Doyle stories literature on
a humble but not ignoble level and the admirable
settings.

What is to be made of this cockamamie trio of pieces
that appear to be stimulated by Wilson's contrary
nature and characterized by confessions,
condemnations and contradictions? Surely not much.
Mr. Wilson found himself left out of a new reading
trend and rather than objectively getting into the
game, he condemns, belittles and finally admits that
even the great Pooh-Bah finds himself somewhat
addicted to some of it is amazing given the little
he actually read. The three articles are much more
revealing about the character of Mr. Wilson than the
literary genre he tried to demean. Unfortunately he
may have influenced the large readership of the New
Yorker which is why it is important to point out the
serious flaws in the articles and arguments.

Given this background it seems only fair that the
other side of the argument regarding mystery fiction
or detective stories be told and that is the aim of
this piece.

I do wonder at times if Wilson's influence isn't the
reason I am frequently disappointed when I enter
into a conversation about the mystery or crime
fiction genre. All too often I am confronted with
disparaging remarks about this body of literature
and the quality of "that stuff". Such opinions are
especially surprising from people who, like Wilson,
presumably know a great deal about books and
literature. They include librarians, booksellers,
book reviewers and other relatively educated
individuals. It never ceases to amaze me how
widespread are such negative and misinformed
opinions and I sense the ghost of that old
curmudgeon hanging about. Clearly there is a need to
correct such an unfortuna te situation.

Detective fiction or mysteries is a body of
literature that engages the reader. One can hardly
read passively when one is invited to pay close
attention to the characters and the plot in order to
try to solve the crime before the author solves it
for the reader. A good mystery invites the reader
into the action and provides a level of intellectual
stimulation (even in the worst of crime novels). The
reader is not lectured at or enveloped in the
emotional travails of some lovelorn soul in pain.

Secondly, the mystery always begins with an ordered
society that becomes disordered by the commission of
a crime of some sort (anyone who reads this
literature knows that the crimes can range from
theft to murder and even more esoteric types of
disorder). Consequently, the reader is introduced to
a real society - a society filled with many types of
people in a social, economic, geographic context
that informs, entertains and enlightens. As the
great Eudora Welty has pointed out, there is no
fiction without place. Hence, the mystery must
deliver a real place over which the action takes
place. Places range from the country house to the
mean urban streets to wherever crime occurs -
everywhere! In a sense the mystery is social science
literature laden with information about people,
environments, social structures, politics, law
enforcement systems and much more. Readers can
become one with the Navaho country of Tony Hillerman
or the means streets of Chicago with Sarah Paretsky
or the beaches of touristy Martha's Vinyard with
Philip Craig. Many mystery authors are much better
than tourist guides and much easier to read. Try
Donna Leon to really get to know Venice or read Dana
Stabenow to experience vicariously the beauty of
Alaska and the fascination of its native cultures.

Even more intriguing are mysteries set in foreign
places. The mystery as literary genre spatially
diffused from the original Poe story (set in Paris)
to all points of the globe. It is especially
important to understand that the detective story was
adopted and adapted to the special conditions of
each culture in each country. The crime story in
Japan, for example, was added to a tradition of
fiction with ghosts and spirits that still appear in
modern Japanese mysteries. These stories reflect a
society where guns are rare and there is an aversion
to violent, swashbuckling private detectives. The
Japanese mystery is almost always a police
procedural reflecting the nation's concern for an
orderly society defended by establishment police.
Incidentally, mysteries are extraordinarily popular
in Japan. In many parts of Latin America the mystery
has been turned upside down and the criminals are
depicted as the "good guys" and the police or the
state are the "criminals". The mystery in many Latin
contexts has become a political protest literature.
Authoritarian governments in the former Soviet bloc
used the genre to depict their heroic security
forces (KGB, etc) as defenders of the state from
Western capitalists and spies. Although the mystery
arrived in Israel relatively late, it has been
warmly embraced by mainstream writers and even poet.
It has been used effectively to depict the social
problems of this complex society. This remarkable
genre embraced in every culture of the world, has
been altered to meet the tastes and needs of that
special place. In sum, the mystery is a remarkable
genre. It takes many forms in many places and can
educate, stimulate and entertain the open-minded,
intelligent reader.

A singular problem of detective stories is their
immense popularity. It is, by my estimate, the most
popular form of literature in most countries.
Consequently, the demand for mysteries is huge and
results in a great deal of low-quality material
produced for a voracious market. This is, however,
not a failing of the genre but rather a failure of
publishers and a weakness of the reading public.
Raymond Chandler once noted that there are as many
mediocre novels written as mysteries but the
mediocre novel does not get published! Indeed,
publishers are guilty because they are primarily
influenced by the bottom line and thus the taste
employed in selecting material for publication is
determined all too often by bizarre topics and
exaggerated crimes. In many ways crime fiction
resembles the American movie industry where they
believe the most violent, sexy, crude, and salacious
stuff sells best and is easier to sell to an
international market (explosions, screams and bare
bodies need little translation!). To resolve the
problem a better-educated audience is needed - one
not influenced by Wilsons who know little and
understand less about mysteries. Readers should read
intelligent reviews and subscribe to journals about
mysteries (there are many) and use the resources of
the Internet to find the best writers and the best
books. The mystery community awards annual prizes in
many categories and this information is available in
many places. There are superb mystery bookstores in
many communities where one can find intelligent and
enlightened help (from sellers, buyers, and
authors!). Most mystery bookstores have newsletters,
web sites and catalogues that are literate and
crammed with first-rate information about new books,
re-published classics and much more. Publishers, on
the other hand must somehow be convinced that there
is more to be gained by publishing quality mysteries
rather than schlock simply to fill shelves. I don't
dare list examples of the litter on the bookshelves
of booksellers in recent years because my lawyer
would divorce me! In many of the columns I have
written, especially about foreign mysteries, I
decried the lack of effort and even interest by
publishers in some of the finest mystery writing in
the world by Argentine, Israeli, Czech, Russian and
many other non-English language authors. There is a
world of great reading in the globalized arena but
it may require a little effort, intelligence and
cost to find and translate these remarkable works.

It is fascinating to note that many very
interesting, accomplished and important people have
been strongly attracted to mysteries. Almost every
U.S. president (except the most ditzy or dishonest
ones) was a great mystery fan - Roosevelt, Kennedy,
Clinton. Some of the most talented literary stars of
the past and present were and are devotees of the
mystery and even wrote (write) them. Faulkner,
Thurber, Milne, Allende, Twain, Greene, Dostoyevski,
Chekhov, Capek, Borges, Updike (whose "Bech Noire"
appeared in The New Yorker, June 8, 1998), Oates,
Gilbert (of Gilbert and Sullivan fame) and many
others were readers and authors of mysteries. An
excellent recent anthology of stories edited by
Michele Slung (Murder and Other Acts of Literature,
St. Martin's, 1997) demonstrates deliciously the
attraction of crime for many of the world's great
writers. There are many mystery writers whose fame
and work will never disappear from some fictional
hall of fame of literary writers. Conan Doyle's
Sherlock Holmes will never fade away (as even Mr.
Wilson verified in his dismal columns) and Raymond
Chandler has already entered America's literary
canon. Agatha Christie's books have sold in the many
millions and have been produced on television and in
the cinema. Her work as well as that of Patricia
Highsmith, Dorothy Sayers and many others will still
be on bookstore shelves at the end of the new
millennium. Many other works by mystery authors such
as Chesterton, Stout, Hillerman, and P.D. James (to
mention only a very few) will outlive some of the
literary luminaries of the past and present because
they tell stories to which we can all relate in ways
that are elegant and unforgettable.

Many of my friends and acquaintances even today,
when pressed, confess to being closet readers of
mysteries. It is difficult to understand why it is
necessary to be a closet reader of a genre that is
worthy of the most demanding, literate and even
arrogant reader. The trick is to know something
about this body of writing. The mystery is a truly
worthy literature. There exists an army of us around
the globe who love it and cannot wait for the next
adventure into a place where a crime will draw us
into a world of mental stimulation and reading
pleasure. In the words of one of the most enduring
and greatest fictional characters of all time, "the
game is afoot": time to pick up a good mystery!
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